


It doesn't take much (to get me desperate for you)

by charite



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fingering, Knotting, M/M, Mating, lots of fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charite/pseuds/charite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lovely @adoreszooeyglass gave me four prompts to choose from for this LSS fic exchange and I picked this one: </p>
<p>2) a/b/o with omega!Harry and alpha!Louis. Not necessarily heat!fic. Harry is easily aroused and is usually slick and wet, which Louis enjoys taking advantage of, fingering Harry any chance he can, teasing Harry until he gets the opportunity to knot him.</p>
<p>I subtly tried to include the first one, with the praise as well and I hope you'll like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It doesn't take much (to get me desperate for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adoreszooeyglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoreszooeyglass/gifts).



In hindsight, Louis could’ve known a lot earlier, a lot, lot earlier. But in the beginning he didn’t know Harry like he did now. He couldn’t read him like a book, and now he knew every single line before he had even read it. Harry was his mate, their souls were in sync, of course he knew Harry even better than he knew himself, he was his alpha. 

They had started seeing each other roughly three years ago, met through a mutual friend, had a cup of coffee, a study date, a dinner date, shared a kiss, you know how it goes. Except there was something special about their story. They found out after that first kiss. Louis had kissed Harry, a nineteen year old Harry with flushed cheeks and trembling hands, who had softly moaned into their kiss and who took a deep, deep breath when Louis pulled back. 

“You are my mate.” 

They had both whispered, at the same time, so in sync that Louis almost thought he just heard his own voice. But there was also the soft, slow drawl of Harry’s voice. They had both felt it. They were supposed to end up together. 

Louis had nodded, reached out his hand and combed his fingers through Harry’s soft curls. Nineteen year old Harry and twenty-one year old Louis, standing there in the cold winter wind. Mates. 

“I am going to mate you Harry, you are my omega. I knew it all along,” he had said softly, words nothing but a slow whisper as his lips brushed over the plush ones of his mate-to-be. 

From the moment he had met Harry he had felt that maybe, if he was lucky, there was a chance that Harry might like him at some point. And after their coffee date, he knew that it was so much more than friendship that he wanted from him. After their shared dinner Louis knew he wanted Harry to be more than anything. He wanted him to be everything and after that kiss he was so certain. Harry was his mate. 

Harry had let out a soft giggle, had initiated another kiss and Louis had taken over, kissed him eagerly. 

He could’ve known at that moment already. Could’ve known if he had paid a bit more attention the sweet, sweet smell that was in the air. He had smelled it around Harry before, never paid attention to it though. And he could’ve known from the soft, sharp breaths that Harry was inhaling whenever their mouths weren’t joined. He could’ve felt it in the tensed fingers, so desperately holding on to his shirt. 

It was a good thing that Louis had a great self-control, otherwise they would probably have mated right there, right then. On that parking lot in front of the restaurant. 

Oh and Louis wanted to mate him, right there and right then, more than anything. Because why would they wait if they were so sure of it. They belonged together. They were going to mate sooner or later at some point, so why not now? 

But Harry was special to him and Louis thought he deserved something special. 

So he had pecked his lips, thumbed back the curls that had fallen over Harry’s face again and had taken a step back. They had said their goodbyes

“Good night, Hazza,” he whispered. 

“Good night, Lou.”

They had a couple more dates, shared a couple more kisses (and a bit more than that) and Louis could’ve known then, but he just never even noticed. 

*

He had noticed on the night that they would mate. Only then he noticed and then all those things he knew now, made a lot more sense. 

That night came roughly three months later. They had been trying to take it slow, really had, but their feelings hadn’t changed, in fact, they had only grown stronger and Louis just wanted Harry to be his. Properly. 

Louis had made a plan. So far, on all their dinner dates, Harry had made him dinner. When Louis had offered, Harry had simply chuckled. 

“I am the omega here, let me just show you I will be good for you,” he had always replied. 

That night, Louis was going to cook for him. He had found a recipe that seemed semi-doable. For the beginning chef it had said and well, on Louis’ list was burned toast and scrambled eggs with a crunchy bite (bits of shell was the key to that), so he considered himself a beginning chef at best. 

His roommate Liam was gone for the night, so he had their shared apartment all to himself.  
He had spent all morning preparing. There were candles in the bathroom and in the bedroom, the candles that Harry loved so much. They were a bit vanilla-y. To Louis they just smelled like Harry. 

When Harry came to the flat only an hour later, he had raised his brows in surprise. 

“Lou, is a tree-month anniversary a thing? Did I miss something?” he had asked. Louis had chuckled and said it wasn’t like that and that he would just have to be patient. 

Louis had cooked and succeeded and they had curled up on the couch with a movie. A romantic comedy. Harry was laying between his legs, Louis was playing with his curls. 

Every once in a while Louis had pressed his lips to Harry’s cheeks, his temple, his neck and after a while Louis had noticed Harry had gotten so restless. He had noticed this a couple of times before. That after just a kiss, or a touch, Harry would always get so twitchy. 

“Are you nervous about something, Curly?” he had asked softly, twirling a particularly springy bit of hair around his fingers. 

Harry had flushed as he shook his head.

Not much later Harry was lifting his bum. Louis had thought Harry was uncomfortable at first and then he noticed. It all just clicked. That wonderful, sweet, sweet smell, Harry’s rapid breathing, his twitchy behaviour. 

Louis had reached down, slipped his fingers between his own thigh and Harry’s bum, only to find that the fabric of Harry’s dark jeans was damp and warm. He pulled back his hand and Harry had been frozen. 

“You’re wet,” he had whispered and Harry had swallowed and nodded. 

“We can skip the movie,” he proposed and Harry whimpered. 

“Never knew you were so eager for this Hazza,” he had said as he had flipped Harry over. 

They had gone upstairs. When Harry had undressed that sweet smell only got stronger. Vanilla, strawberries, Harry. 

And he was wet, Harry had been so wet. Louis had known that omega’s could get wet. Of course, that was sort of the entire point. But this wet. He had never known. 

And eager. So, so eager. 

They had laid there in the bed, not even thirty minutes later, still locked together, waiting for Louis’ knot to go down and Louis just had to ask him. 

“Haz, every time after our kisses, every single time you would start flushing and you were breathing so fast, were you turned on all those times?” he had asked. And Harry had nodded bashfully. 

They had spoken about it and Harry had confessed that it was just something about Louis that turned him on. That he was practically always turned on around Louis and that it was only worse on his heat. 

Louis had never seen him on his heat, but if he was already this eager and desperate on a normal day, he could not even imagine what it would be like on his heat. 

So that was a thing. Harry getting turned on by anything and anything. A suggestive gesture from Louis, or Louis rubbing his thumb over Harry’s nipple as he walked by, in the upcoming years Louis would learn all about it. 

*

Years later, Louis could read Harry like a book. He just knows. He knows what gets Harry going and then again, he also never knows because he is still learning. Harry can be turned on from something so plain and boring that Louis will never guess it, but at least now Louis knows when it happens. He has learned to read the signs. 

And he abuses it. Because while in the first couple of months it was a bit of an inconvenience, that Harry was just always ready to go, now Louis uses it to his benefit. 

It is just one of the many, many things that he loves about his mates. It is also incredibly hot. The power he has over Harry. It is their game and over the past years, they’ve become pro’s at playing it. 

Tonight for example, they are particularly good. 

It is their monthly dinner night with their group of friends. It’s when Liam comes over, with his omega Zayn, and Niall is there, with whatever alpha or omega he feels like dating at those times. He’s a beta, and a true one, at heart. Betas are the middle of the society and Niall is just like that. There’s weeks when he dates alphas, when they get to see his shy and sweet side, and there’s weeks when he brings a petite, but always cheerfully loud omega to their dining table. 

This night it is the latter. Eilis is an Irish girl, studying here in Manchester for a semester. She and Niall share some classes and their hometown, so they hit it off straight away. 

Eilis is chatting with Zayn, as they too apparently share a class. Niall has his hand on her thigh, but he is paying more attention to the Derby match that is on the television than on their conversation. 

Harry is in the kitchen, cooking up a lovely meal for all of them.   
Louis has some plans. And when Liam then turns to Zayn, to engage in his conversation with Eilis, Louis stands up, grabs a beer and excuses himself. 

He finds Harry at the stove, stirring in some pots and the kitchen is filled with a lovely smell. A smell that is about to change in a moment, about to get a lot more sweeter. 

Harry is easily turned on, is one thing. The other thing is that he is almost always wet. 

Louis makes him wear lose pants around the house, always. Well, at least ever since he learned that Harry is always wet and he is not going to spend ten minutes trying to get those horrible skinnies down, when he could spend those ten minutes with his fingers up Harry’s arse. 

Harry is humming along to a song and Louis is fairly sure Harry hasn’t even noticed that he is in the kitchen. 

He closes the door behind himself. The living room is on the other side of their apartment. But their apartment is small and he doesn’t really feel like having their friends noticing anything. He’ll save that for later. 

He slowly, silently approaches Harry and yanks down the soft sweats he is wearing. 

“Nothing underneath them, my eager boy,” he tuts, pressing his lips to Harry’s neck, suckling on the sweet skin. 

Harry whimpers, drops a spoon and presses back his arse against Louis. 

Louis always pretends he is surprised. He isn’t though, along his demand of no tight pants in the house also came the demand for Harry not to wear underwear. 

“I was going to change after cooking Lou.” 

“Of course you were, wouldn’t want to get your pretty jeans all dirty with sauce when you still have to sit at the table with our guests,” Louis whispers in reply, his hand spreading over the left cheek of Harry’s bum, fingers squeezing the firm flesh. 

Harry nods. Louis chuckles. 

He runs one finger over Harry’s hole. It is wet. So wet. 

“Of course Harry. Liam might believe that, and so might our new guest Eilis. But I don’t.”

He presses the tip of his finger inside. Harry is always wet and always so wonderfully tight. He is perfect for Louis. 

“I know the real reason, baby,” he whispers, lips trailing over Harry’s skin. He closed his mouth over the faint scar, the spot where he had bitten Harry a year ago, the spot that made Harry his mate. He sucked on it. Harry pushes his hip back. 

With his free hand he swats Harry’s bum, a crack sounding through the kitchen. Then a whimper and Harry takes in a deep breath.

“So eager. Such an eager boy you are,” he said. 

He moved his finger further inside of Harry, dragged it back out and jabbed it back in. 

“Always so eager. Always need something inside you, don’t you baby?” 

Harry whimpers again, he is gripping the edge of the kitchen isle so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

Louis smacks his arse again. 

“Are you going to answer me?” 

Harry whimpers again and nods. Louis smirks. He knows. This is their game and they are so good at playing it. 

Louis pushes in another finger and Harry moans loudly. Louis chuckles and reaches up his free hand, clasping it over Harry’s mouth. 

“Hush now. We’ve got guests over. And we wouldn’t want Liam to hear how my omega can’t behave himself now, do we?” Louis asks Harry and Harry shakes his head. 

Louis curls his fingers, slowly fucks them in and out of Harry’s arse. The warm, wet slick is dripping down his hand, landing on the floor in small drops. Harry is so wet. Always so fucking wet. 

“Give me a taste of that sauce, babes?” Louis demands sweetly and Harry shakily picks up the spoon that he had dropped several minutes before. He scoops a bit of the sauce on the spoon and carefully blows on it before lifting it, so that Louis can taste. 

Meanwhile Louis is feeling generous. He pushes in a third finger, Harry can easily take it. Normally, on nights like this, when they play their little game, Louis won’t give him more than two fingers on the first time. He likes to tease, likes to build this up. 

But he also likes to keep Harry on edge. He likes it when Harry has no idea where this is going. And that is why, after he swallows the wonderful sauce, he pulls out his fingers, wipes them on his jeans and walks over to the fridge to grab the six-pack that Niall had put in there. 

Harry whines. He honest to God whines, as if Louis is doing him some kind of injustice. 

“Just a pinch more salt, sweetheart.” Louis says lightly before he opens the kitchen door and walks out, leaving Harry a whining, trembling mess at the stove. 

It is a good thing that the smell of the sauce is so strong because Louis is pretty sure that they would be able to smell Harry in the living room. And that wouldn’t be the first time either. 

They both knew Niall, from fresher’s week and he is the one who introduced them. Liam and Louis have been friends since the start of uni three years ago and so have Harry and Zayn. They introduced the two to each other and so their group was called into life almost two years ago. 

Louis is pretty sure that they are all aware of the game that he and Harry love to play. He is also very grateful that they have never really mentioned it. 

He adjusts himself in his jeans and opens the door. Niall cheers loudly when he lays eyes on the beer and Louis hands them all a bottle. 

“Dinner’s almost ready, lads,” Louis says and Niall cheers again. 

“Eilis, Harry here makes the best, best fajitas in the world,” Niall whispers, as if it is some kind of secret. It isn’t.

Louis takes a gulp from his beer and smirks to himself. He just knows what is going on in the kitchen right now. After a year of playing, he is a master at the game. He knows that Harry is trembling while he is trying to finish dinner and he knows that when Harry’s is going to get changed, he just has to wash himself and put on at least half a bottle of perfume. Even though they both know it is useless to try and hide that smell. 

Harry joins them in the living room about thirty minutes later. To the untrained eye he looks normal like every day. He is wearing his trademark torn black jeans and his hair is put up in a bun. He smells clean and fresh and a bit like the spicy fajitas that he has been making. 

He greets all their friends with a hug and unceremoniously drops himself on Louis’ lap. He kisses his cheek. 

Louis rests his hand on Harry’s bum, Harry’s breath hitches. Louis always wins their little game. 

“It is about five more minutes until I can take the fajitas out of the oven,” Harry announces. Louis presses his hand down, kneads the flesh of Harry’s arse. Harry is blushing. 

The five minutes pass and because Louis is not actually purely evil, he doesn’t tease Harry too much. When Harry’s alarm buzzes on his phone, Louis lets go of him and they all follow Harry into the kitchen, gathering around the large dining table that Harry already set. 

They praise Harry for the smell of the food, and once he pulls the large tray out of the oven, they also praise him for how it looks. In mere minutes they will praise him for how it tastes, like they always do, because like always it will taste great and Louis is always proud of Harry. 

All throughout the night, Louis keeps a close eye on Harry. And he can just see it, from the way that he clenches his fist every five minutes, and from how often he licks his lips, that he is still so turned on. Louis just knows that by the time that the boys are gone, Harry will be on his knees, begging Louis to fuck him. Which Louis will gladly do. He loves how eager Harry is, no matter how much they pretend the opposite. 

Louis sends him a wink every now and then, but doesn’t tease him all too much. He had his moment of teasing, when Harry was preparing and he knows that was enough to keep Harry turned on and on edge for a little while. 

It is almost midnight when Louis closes the door behind Niall and then he pushes Harry against it. 

“Been waiting all night,” Harry whimpers before Louis attacks his lips and kisses him hotly. So has he. He has been waiting all night as well. He can’t wait to feel Harry around him, can’t wait to fuck into him. 

He reached behind Harry, between his body and the door and these jeans are too tight for him to slip his hand inside them, but he doesn’t even need to. When he presses his fingers against the fabric, he can feel just how wet Harry is. 

He rocks his hips against Harry, letting the other know what it does to him. 

“Get to the bedroom, Harry,” he almost growls. 

“I want you naked, on the bed, with your face down and your ass up and I will be there in five minutes.” 

Harry moans and goes, not needing to hear that again. 

Louis waits five minutes before he goes into their bedroom. Harry is such a sight. 

“Look at you. Just.. Look at you,” he says as he runs his fingers over Harry’s back. Harry has placed a towel underneath himself, smart. Louis doubts whether it is useful or not. Harry is always so wet, he’ll probably soak the thing before they even get started, but it is thoughtful and it is the thought that matters. 

Louis kneels on the bed and sits down beside Harry. 

“I love your body so fucking much,” he says as he slips one finger into Harry’s dripping wet hole. Despite how wet he is, the tightness is still making it a bit difficult. 

“Always so gorgeous for me,” he whispers and Harry moans softly. Harry loves to be praised and Louis loves praising him. He can never get enough of telling his boy how wonderful he is. Because he is. 

Louis loves him and he is always so proud of him. No matter if it is because he cooked them all fajitas, or because he is taking four fingers like a champ, Louis is always proud of his mate. 

“Lou, will you fuck me?” Harry whines. He is already so desperate, and honestly, they have only just started. Then again, their entire night has practically been foreplay, but that doesn’t change anything for Louis. 

“Patience babe,” he whispers sweetly. If anything, patience is not Harry’s forte though, and he rocks his hips up trying to get more of Louis’ finger. 

“Love. I will just tell you straight away, I plan on fingering you for hours, so be patient,” Louis said, a bit more stern this time. 

Harry whimpers and his hole produces even more slick, it slips out past Louis’ finger and he just can’t resist. He dips his head down and licks a long stripe from Harry’s balls to wear his fingers is disappearing inside Harry’s hole. He gathers all the sweet slick and gives an appreciative moan at the taste of it. Harry is just delicious to him. 

Louis can see that Harry is already sweating. His skin is glistening, his hair is a bit damp. This is just the start though, they both know that. 

Louis slowly moves his finger in and out, he takes his time. He curls it, uncurls it, twisted it a bit, jabs it in straight and changes up his routine a bit. 

“Are you ready for another one?” He asks after Harry has begged him for one more finger roughly twenty times. 

“God, yes,” Comes the breathy reply of Harry. 

Louis obliges and pushes in a second finger. He still can’t believe how wet Harry gets. He loves it. He loves it so much, it drives him crazy. It is just the fact that, he is doing this to Harry. He is the one who gets him this wet. 

Harry moans when Louis spreads his fingers inside him. 

Louis moves his free hand forward, slips it under Harry’s chest to touch him. He rubs his thumb over Harry’s nipple and Harry moans, a little louder this time. 

“Your body,” Louis praises. After years, Harry’s body is just as gorgeous to him as it was the first time when he saw it. Harry is pretty muscly for an omega. He has great abs, strong arms and he is very tall. Louis loves every single thing about Harry’s body. But his favourite thing might be Harry’s tattoos. 

They have two matching ones, as if a mating mark is not enough.

“You look so gorgeous like this Harry. When I am slowly filling you up. When you are waiting for my cock, waiting for my knot to fill you. Because you won’t be satisfied before that, will you now?” 

Harry shakes his head, whimpers out Louis’ name and it is enough of a reply to Louis. He knows. He knows all about it. Harry has told him countless times how it feels, how desperate he gets and how the only thing that can satisfy him is the feeling of Louis’ knot inside him.   
Harry started taking birth control about a month into their relationship and that was the best decision. Louis loved it, that he didn’t have to use a condom anymore and that he could just fill Harry up with his seed, like he was meant to do with his mate. 

Now he has to be a bit more patient though. He isn’t done teasing Harry yet. 

He spreads his two fingers a bit wider and dips his head, licking between them. He knows it will drive Harry crazy. It’s less than a second before Harry’s head snaps up and a low, guttural moan escapes him. 

“Taste so sweet, baby,” Louis praises, licking over Harry’s hole once more. 

“Please Lou.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Patience baby.”

Louis pushes in a third finger and while it doesn’t fully satisfy Harry, it does keep him silent for a little while. A little while being roughly two minutes.

He isn’t going to wait much longer. He is so hard inside his jeans, it isn’t comfortable anymore. So he pulls out his fingers and smiles to himself when Harry whines.

“Turn around love,” he says softly as he takes off his shirt. 

Harry clumsily turns around and stares up at him, with big green clouded eyes. He’s so beautiful. So fucking beautiful and Louis loves seeing him like this so much. 

Louis undoes the button of his jeans and pushes them down along with his boxers in one go. He stares down at Harry as he positions himself between his legs and he presses in, gripping the base of his cock with a tight grip. 

Harry moans so obscenely loud, but then again, Louis can’t blame him. Harry has been so patiently waiting for this. Patiently and desperately. 

Louis steadies himself with one hand, his gaze still locked with Harry’s. He gives his mate a moment to adjust and then he pulls back a little. When he pulls back, there is a squelching sound and Louis does not only hear, but also feel how wet Harry is. It seems like he is even wetter than the last time they fucked, but that is something he always thinks. 

He snaps his hips forward. Harry nods. Then he starts fucking him in earnest. Deep, hard thrusts as their gazes remain locked. He leans over Harry, Harry leans up. Their lips meet in a messy kiss. They like, moan, breath into each other’s mouths as Louis fucks Harry hard and deep, the way he loves it. 

It is only a couple of minutes before he feels Harry tensing up. He knows Harry’s body as well as his own and he reached down, grips the base of Harry’s cock tightly. 

“Don’t come yet,” he whispers against his lips. He himself is close as well, he can feel it. And he wants Harry to come with him. 

So he fucks him faster, stares down at him. They are such a mess. Both so sweaty, and Harry’s slick is so wet between them. As Louis had already predicted, the towel is soaked. 

Louis feels the familiar tug, low in his stomach. His hips stutter and the base of his cock grows thicker. He thrusts once more and then they are locked together. He lets go of Harry’s cock and he doesn’t even need to touch him. 

The moment he lets go, Harry comes, and while Louis fills Harry up with his seed, Harry makes a mess between them. He gets them even messier than they were before. Not that either of them care. 

They moan, whimper, try to catch their breath and Louis flips them over. Harry is resting on top of him now, his head on Louis’ chest as they wait for Louis’ knot to go down. They don’t speak, both too worn out.   
They’re disgusting, sticky, wet, dirty. But when Louis’ knot finally goes down, Harry has already fallen asleep. They’ll shower in the morning. 

Louis carefully pushes Harry off of him and smiles before he pecks his lips. He drifts off as well. 

* 

The following day Louis has a break between his last class and his football training. Harry is in their apartment, he knows that, because Harry snapped a picture of himself in nothing but sweats as he was writing on an essay. 

Of course an action like that won’t go unnoticed. 

Louis rushes home. He’s got about half an hour and he knows exactly how to spend it. He gets into their apartment, closes the door and finds Harry standing in front of the bookshelves. Harry looks at him, opens his mouth to say something, but Louis beats him to it. 

“Sweats down. Now.”

It’ll be thirty minutes well-spent.


End file.
